


I Belong Here

by Daerwyn



Series: A Collection of Drabbles by Helmaninquiel [53]
Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types, The Hobbit - J. R. R. Tolkien
Genre: Break Up, F/M, Hope
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-29
Updated: 2016-10-17
Packaged: 2018-05-03 21:38:43
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,205
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5307755
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Daerwyn/pseuds/Daerwyn
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“It’s our home,” Kili insisted. “We could make ourselves a good life there. I’m a prince and we’d have the finest chamber in the whole city, and you’d have jewels beyond measure-”</p><p>You glanced up quickly, sharply. “I don’t belong there, Kili. I don’t want that life. I belong here. I belong watching the mountains weather and the sea rise and fall with the hours. I belong here…”</p><p>300 Followers Drabble Celebration</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

The news of the quest filled Kili with both hope and despair. 

Hope because he would finally be able to prove that he was a man. That he was an adult to be taken seriously, and not some child that had to stay home with mother.

And despair because it meant leaving the one that he had stood beside for near twenty years. You were his age, though your mind was wiser than your years. Kili could not recall a day you did not teach him something new. 

Since the first moment they settled in that village, you had offered him a bright smile, and he had offered you a mischievous one back. Though, he found that you were quick to learn that he was always mischievous. 

And so when his Uncle had written saying that he would allow Kili to go, Kili had spent the rest of the evening lying in his bed, writing letter upon letter on how to tell you. On what to say before all else failed.

Before he went to the mountain both your families had once lived in. 

Kili settled on meeting you in person, at your usual location by the river, and he listened as you hummed, your eyes closed, the grass blowing in the gentle breeze, tangling with your hair. It was not until your cheeks turned pink from the suns rays that he spoke.

“I’ll be leaving soon.”

“We will just be meeting again tomorrow, Kili. You may leave when you wish.”

Kili swallowed. Your lips barely moved as you spoke, yet the captivated his attention in a way that they hadn’t before. “I’m going with my uncle and Fili east, to Erebor.”

“Erebor is lost-”

“He means to reclaim it.” He watched as your throat bobbed, you swallowing the protest that was plain on your face. And you opened your eyes, turning to look at him with confusion. “We are getting our home back.”

“When do you leave?”

“A fortnight from the full moon,” Kili spoke. “Just under three weeks, really-”

“I see.” You sat up, your hands twisting around one another as they fell into your lap, wringing the skirt’s fabric. “And your mother?”

“Staying.” You nodded, but Kili rushed out quickly. “Come with us.”

“The road is no place for a woman,” you spoke quietly, dropping your gaze away from him once more. “I can’t, Kili-”

“It’s our home,” Kili insisted. “We could make ourselves a good life there. I’m a prince and we’d have the finest chamber in the whole city, and you’d have jewels beyond measure-”

You glanced up quickly, sharply. “I don’t belong there, Kili. I don’t want that life. I belong here. I belong watching the mountains weather and the sea rise and fall with the hours. I belong here…”

“But Erebor is our homeland,” Kili said, confused. “Even if you do not come on the quest to reclaim it, we can always send for you after it is done-”

“I don’t belong anywhere but here, Kili,” you said gently. “This little village on the borders of the Shire? This is my home. This is where I have grown up. Where I have my family. Where I can settle down and watch my family grow up and settle as well.” Kili felt himself frown the more you spoke, until he could not bear to look any longer and dropped his gaze.

“You will not have me, then?”

He could tell by the way you closed your eyes that it was not the conversation you wished to have. Like a prayer, you kept them closed, even as you spoke. “I would, in another life, but fate has proved to tear us apart in this one. We have separate homes, separate ambitions. We would not make each other happy… We would not be as your mind seems to think we will. We are just friends, Kili, we always have been since we met… but…” Kili watched as your rose, and smoothed out your skirt. “I need to go home.” 

Home. Kili grew to hate the word the more you said it. He had once thought of Erebor as home, his father’s home was surely his home?, but the more he heard you speak the wretched word, the more he wondered if it was his home at all. None of him but his heart had lived there before. 

And sometimes his mind when he dreamed of what the halls would look like. 

But as you moved to go passed him, you suddenly stopped and bent down, kissing his forehead. “I hope you find your home, Kili.”

He watched you walk away, until your form became indistinguishable from the yellow grass.

You did not meet him the next day, nor any day after. And the morning Kili left on the quest, you sat atop the hill by the river, watching him and his brother disappear down the road, into Shirelands. Away from home.


	2. With You

_You will not have me, then?_  The words haunted you, tugged at your dreams every step he took away from where you were. Some days, you would walk to the edge of the village, making you that much closer, and some days, you’d even venture to the Shire border, your pony eager for new pastures to graze. But you never once crossed into the unfamiliar territory. 

You would not follow.

You had sworn it to yourself, even after you had found that no matter how hard you weeped, no one would hear you. No one you cared to hear you, anyway. 

Your brother did not breach the topic with you, not even as you would eagerly tend to the farm with him, working yourself more than you likely should have. He did not even attempt to breach the topic when you’d suddenly go rigid at the sounds of horses coming up the road, your heart daring a dangerous dream. 

You did not hear from him, though you knew you would not. Not a letter, or a raven. Nothing to tell you if he had been lost in the journey, never to return. Perhaps even just that news would have eased your heart from wishing too much. From the pain. 

Nothing hurt more than the distance you had deliberately placed. Yet, stubbornly, this was your home. This was where you had been born, raised, where your mother had died and was buried, and your father was soon to follow. This was your home, and where you would live until you joined them. 

That was all you wanted for yourself. You did not want an adventure, or a quest. And whenever you’d hope too much, you would insist that you did not want Kili.  
The lie almost burned every time you thought of it. You could not want Kili. Once Erebor was reclaimed, he would be a true Prince, an heir to the throne of a kingdom that was world’s away. And he would never marry a farmer, or dream of a life that simple again

You were so certain, that you did your best to forget. You did your best to work through the sorrow and the anger and the pain you felt - that you had brought upon yourself. 

“Y/N,” your brother said, and you realized you had been standing, watching the riders on the road for too long. “He’s not coming back.” Hearing someone else say the words so brashly, so loudly, even though his voice was gentle and sincere, hurt. It hurt like a battle wound, or a torn muscle, or anything worse than that you could possibly put to mind. Hearing someone else come to the same conclusion you came to, but refused to accept, ached. 

“I know,” you said quietly. You glanced to your brother, seeing him give you a sympathetic look. “I… I’m going to head into the village. There is something I forgot to do earlier.”

Your brother did not question what it was, but he nodded, taking the plow for himself to till the fields, for the spring after winter. The house you came upon, in your short journey, was familiar, yet one you had not stepped near in almost two years. The woman that lived here lived alone, and she was someone you strictly avoided if you saw her in the marketplace.

Perhaps that was the wrong thing to have done. Perhaps, with the fact that her only boys, her only sons, had journeyed on a quest that they were certain not to return from, you should have remained closer. She had been a second mother to you, always fondly inviting you for dinner or giving you some food she had made extra to bring back home to your own family. 

Yet she was not just motherly. She was every bit the father that had passed before Kili and Fili’s adulthood. She was firm, strict, and knew exactly how to get them to do as they were told, teaching them basic battle tactics until they were old enough to go to a master swordsman. Or in Kili’s case, an archer. 

You knocked before you could stop yourself, and once you realized what you had done, you could not seem to think of any words to say. You froze, your mind racing as you struggled for something competent, something that conveyed how you were just as regretful and upset and worried as she was. 

The door jerked open, with a gruff, "Can I help you?” and you further swallowed your tongue.

“Lady Dis,” you started, and cursed yourself for the words. That was hardly how you wanted to open. “Hello.”

She stared at you a moment, before the tension in her shoulders melted. And she gave you a warm, and ever welcoming smile. It caused the braids in her beard to jingle, with the bells her husband had given her right before he had been slain in battle. “Come in, love. You’re always welcome here." 

You knew it. You had always been told it. You stepped past her, your head dipping in thanks. And once she shut the door, you turned to face her. The home was so still, so similar to how it was before Kili had gone, that you almost expected to see him coming around the corner, covered in dirt from sparring outside with Fili. It made the aching worse.

"I’m sorry.” The words seemed to be your undoing, and suddenly you were crying. “I’m sorry. I’ve been avoiding you and I’m so sorry-”

“Oh, love,” Dis sighed, and she engulfed you in her arms, hugging you tightly. “There, there. Don’t you worry, dear. I’m perfectly fine, you know. They either come back or they don’t. At least they left doing as they wished, on their own accord.” She smoothed out your unbraided hair, and as your crying ceased, she gave you a pointed smile. “We can’t fault them all for being obnoxious and small minded, can we?”

You giggled helplessly, “No, I suppose not.” She pressed her hand to your back, guiding you further into the home.

“Tea?”

“Please.” It was not until the cup was placed in front of you that you admitted how you felt. “I… I should have told him. I should have told him that I cared for him.”

“Oh, I’m sure he knew it.” You weren’t. “If he did not, then he is just as blind as his father was.” You glanced up, as it was rare she talked of Vili. “Or as blind as I was, I should say. Vili was so smitten, he would bend over backwards to pick up a handkerchief, if he felt I had dropped it. Why, so many times it wasn’t even mine, and yet I still was given them just in case.” You smiled, even as she smiled fondly, her eyes going distant as she seemed to remember. “For years I was blind, insisting that I couldn’t marry some low born dwarf with barely a coin to his name. Yet… There was something about him. He had a kind smile." 

You barely remembered the dwarf, as he had passed when you were so little. You just remembered the blonde mane and the bellowing laugh. "How did you know? When did you know?”

“Oh, well. Not for a while,” Dis admitted. “Not until he had gone to battle, you see. In those days, battles were so frequent.” You listened raptly, your tea forgotten. “But before he left, he asked if I would wait for him to return. If I would wait with the other wives or partners, and hope he’d come back.”

“Did you?”

“No,” Dis admitted. “He left, his hair unbraided for luck, and I went home. But I could not sleep that night. Nor the next. And I went to the gate where the wives waited, sometimes would sleep and eat and camp, and I sat amongst them on the dirt and grime, and waited. He did not disappoint. When he came back, and he always would, he gave me a good hearty kiss and told me that I shouldn’t have come at all. At least made him beg for me.”

You smiled fondly, and she glanced to you, giving you a small smile. “He asked you to go with him.”

“Yes.” She seemed to already know.

“You made the right choice, Y/N. If you had gone, and trouble arrived on the road? You would not have survived that. They’ve at least some battle experience, or trained for it.” You agreed, your head dipping to your chilling tea. You sipped from it. “If he had lost you on the road, he would have likely gotten himself killed in the revenge he’d seek.”

“He asked if I would have him,” you confided, your voice a near whisper. “If I’d come to Erebor when it’s reclaimed. If it is." 

"You said no,” she guessed curiously.

“This is my home. This is where my family is from, where I am from. I could not imagine leaving it.”

“Nor could I,” Lady Dis admitted. “I’ve already told my brother I will not go to Erebor. There is no throne for me there, no chamber. I do not remember it’s halls or its glory. I was much too young. And now I’m too old for such a journey.” You were silent. “But you told him, in a another life you would.” You glanced up in surprise. “He told me. He could not seem to understand why you would not go, or be sent for.” You swallowed. “I told him that a woman knows her heart, and knows what is in the best interest for all those involved. It’s how we make our decisions.”

“He must have said women have no sense of adventure.” Lady Dis laughed, a full laugh that echoed in the otherwise silent home. 

“You know my son too well." 

Perhaps much too well. "What if he does not return?” you feared, your voice a mere whisper. “What if he perishes in his quest? I do not think my heart would bear it.”

“Losing Vili was one of the hardest things I’ve gone through,” Lady Dis said softly. “There are days I still think he will come home. But I had to be strong, for my boys, for my brother. For myself. It will be hard, but it will become bearable. Over time, you may even feel ready to love again, and learn that you are not. Or learn that you are. But I have no doubt in my mind that Kili will reach Erebor, and when he does, he will try his best to reclaim it and then sort out what he wants from there.”

You swallowed. “I’m so scared.”

“As am I." 

It was not until winter had begun, you weaving the first threads of wool from the freshly sheared sheep for blankets, that you got the Raven. It arrived at the city square, and then was rushed to you by the child that worked for the ravenmaster. 

Your name was scrawled on the small scroll, sealed with the emblem of a city you did not recognize. But you recognized the handwriting. 

 _Kili_. Your fingers trembled, wondering if you should open it. Wondering if you dared to read what was inside. Who had perished? Had they been successful? Had they been unsuccessful, resting in an unfamiliar city? Had they not even arrived there at all?

_You will you not have me, then?_

You could not bring yourself to open it, your hand curling around the only proof you had that he lived long enough to write this letter - you did not want to know if it was his dying words, or if it was his tales of success. You could not go. You refused to go. Not while your father was so close to his final years, and your brother could not tend to the farm alone. 

But you were not prepared for the amount of people in the village that were packing up in the coming weeks, readying themselves for a journey to Erebor. Carts full of provisions, blankets, coin, iron. Anything that they could possibly think of needing. Homes that became empty as groups would leave, would collapse in the winter wind and snow. You and Lady Dis would watch them go, more of your home being ripped away with each passing cart and horse.

Walking through the sparse market, there was not much left. A few farms, people that were too old to journey, remaining with a few of their youngest children. 

There was no laughter in the fields. No singing by the river. No forging in the smithy. Nothing was left here. It was as if your home had been sapped of life with the news. 

You finished a blanket, pulling it from the loom when you heard your brother come in from shoveling the front path. "You need to go.” You glanced up, seeing him look at the loom, moved to the front window so that you could watch the carts pass. “Go to him, Y/N." 

"I can’t,” you insisted. “I need to stay-”

“Go,” he spoke gently, encouragingly. “We’ll take care of ourselves, here. We’ve got it well enough so far." She could not imagine him doing all of this on his own. The cooking, the cleaning, the farming. "Lady Dis will do what we cannot. She’s already agreed to it. I’ve talked to her.”

“You have?”

“A week ago.” You sucked in a breath, before you dropped the blanket, kissing his cheek, and giving him a tight hug. 

You had to go. You had to go to Erebor, or you’d drive yourself mad. Alone, with no one here to keep you proper company. You had to at least try to make amends, to see him for the first time in two years and explain why you had rejected him. You had to go to Erebor, where your home was all migrating to. 

  
You spent two days collecting enough provisions and making sure everything was situated before you left. Your father seemed to understand, and Lady Dis promised to keep them well fed. “I dare say, they may become roast for dinner by the end of the winter, if I’ve anything to do with it." 

She gave you a braid for good luck, tucked behind your hair and disappearing down your neck. "Tell them that they had better behave.”

You would. 

You did not expect the journey to be so long, so tedious. It was miles of hard riding just to catch up to the last group that had left, and miles more to go. The winter in the mountains was harsh, and the torrential rains of the spring caused landslides and even more dangerous paths that had to be avoided. For that reason, your group that you had come to travel with had decided to take their chances and take a different path than was advised by the city of Erebor.

It was gruelling, and it was so difficult that you often thought of turning back. But turning back became less of an option, instead going forward was less of a tedious process. The old forest nearly swallowed you as you followed the careful path, warned not to go a single inch off of it. 

You wondered if they had gone this very path when they had journeyed. 

Seeing Erebor once the forest was cleared took your breath away. It was late spring, a high sun showing you the shining magnificence of the front gates, and workers were seeming to be working tirelessly on rebuilding things. You passed a city, full of full sized men you had scarce seen before. And when you reached the front gates, towering over you, you were surprised to see that a dwarf, one you did not recognize, was speaking to each party entering.

For skills, for job duties. Assignments on where to go.

You had not planned this far ahead. Seeing Kili had really been your only driving force. When you came to the front, he did not even look up from his parchment. White haired, strong features that told much of a story. “And what skills do you bring with you?”

“I… I’m really just here to see Kili. But… I… erm, well, I was a farmer in-”

You did not continue as his head snapped up, with a speed much too quick for his age. “Kili, you say?” He seemed to be scrutinizing you, as if trying to place you amongst likely many dwarrowdams looking for the prince to talk to. This was foolish. Of course they’d never let you see him. 

“I’ve made a terrible mistake, you see, and I need to make amends, correct-”

“Your name?” he interrupted, and not unkindly, but as if he needed a name for any sort of permission to grant you any answer of any kind. 

You swallowed. “Y/N. From Ered Luin.” He seemed to recognize it, and you wondered how. You had never seen the dwarf before. Had… had Kili mentioned you? Told them to look for you at the gate, just in case?

“Kili isn’t here, lass,” he said sympathetically. 

Terror tore at your gut. Surely he was not dead. Lady Dis had not seemed upset, and you knew she was given a letter as well with yours. Had he succumbed to a wound after, an accident that had not been sent to his mother yet?

“Where… where is he?” you asked hesitantly. 

The dwarf hummed, thinking. “Well, left about three weeks ago, now, I’d say. You should have come across him on the road-”

“Landslides,” you murmured faintly, in explanation. A few weeks ago he had left. Where could he have gone, but to Ered Luin? “Thank you, Master Gatekeeper. Thank you. I … I’m sorry for wasting your time. I need to go.” You had nothing for the journey back, save for a few left over provisions, but you’d make do. You jerked the horse leading your cart around, and moved off of the path. 

The dwarf called after you, as if trying to alert you of something, but you did not listen. Kili had gone back to Ered Luin.

He had gone back to Ered Luin, and you were in Erebor. 

He had gone back home. 

Just as you had always hoped, but never thought would happen. You did not know if you could survive the journey back. But you tried your best, resting only when you needed to, stopping at camps that were heading to Erebor, for safety, and running back as far as your cart and horse could go. It was not until the mountains that your cart broke down, and you had no means to mend it, that you decided to go without. You had not ridden horses much, as they were much too big for your small dwarven form.

So the concept was foreign, and the horse took ages to coax into letting you climb aboard, but you loaded the mare with everything left you could grab from the cart, and took off towards home.

Not knowing how to make fires in the wild, without flint and brush, you wrapped yourself in a blanket in the mountains, listening to the stone creak with age.   
Ered Luin was a familiar sight, and one that you were too exhausted to truly appreciate seeing. But as soon as you crossed the border and went along the familiar path, you could see your home.

The black stallion was … not yours. Or your brothers. And was tied to the front post as you slid down, your legs hurting and wobbly beneath you, with no rider. 

But you did not need to see the rider to know who the stallion belonged to. You hobbled much too fast through the gate of the farm, carrying yourself up the path. Just as the door flung open. He flew into you, before you even recognized him. They crashed into the muddy ground, and he seemed to take the brunt of the force, remaining under you, even after the crash had ended. 

“Y/N,” he murmured.

You took him in, despite the mud that had splashed onto his face. His hair was longer and, “Your beard’s grown,” you blurted. He met your eyes, a smirk touching his lips, before he burst into laughter. “Oh, Kili,” you breathed. “I’m sorry. For everything I’ve said. I was upset, upset that you were going. And I did not mean them. I should have just been honest with you. I should have told you that I would go to Erebor-”

“If only you’d returned a few minutes sooner,” Kili cut you off. “Save me from crying in front of your poor brother. He didn’t know what to do with me.” You swallowed. “When I heard you went to Erebor… Y/N…”

“I’m sorry,” you murmured. “I… I wasn’t thinking, when I told you I would not go-”

“No,” Kili interrupted. “No, I should not have asked that of you.” Tears gathered in your eyes and Kili gave you a blinding smile, full of every emotion you had missed so desperately on his face. “You were right. Erebor isn’t my home. Erebor was never my home. I could not stay there, and close my eyes to see here. And see you.” You chewed on your lip, and pulling yourself off of him, so that you too sat in the mud. His body jerked upright, so that he was eye level with you, much like he had been the day he had told you he would leave. “It was always here. I always belonged here. With Amad. With you." 

"Kili…” you whispered.

“So, let’s do it, then,” Kili continued, unperturbed. “We’ll have our own farm, our own little cottage. Where we can dance under the stars, until they no longer shine. Where we can live in peace, and watch the valley grow with life in the springs. All I want is you, here. This is my home. You’re my home." 

You wiped at the tears that had fallen, smearing mud on your face. He laughed, but did not dare make it worse, in his efforts to "fix” the smudge. And you kissed him, stopping his beautiful speech, and halting his laugh. You did not want to cry more. And despite the mud soaking into his hair, and seeping into his frock, you did not mind in the slightest when your hands met the slimy mud. You just cared about him.

Against your lips, your lungs burning, he spoke, his voice so hushed you could scarce hear it. “We’ll have as many children as you want. As many horses and pigs and goats. We’ll have whatever you want. Whatever makes you happy. Whatever will keep you smiling into the sun for the rest of your life. I’ll give it to you. Because all I want is you.”

“I love you,” you whispered. His eyes flickered to yours at the declaration, surprised. “I love you so much, and wherever you wish to be, I will be happy, Kili. You are a prince. You cannot just leave Erebor-”

“I’ve worked it out with my uncle and brother,” Kili insisted, patiently. “Fili is the first in line for the throne after my uncle. I’m not needed there. And Uncle encouraged me to come back to find my One. But I told him… well, I told him that I’d already found one.” You sucked in a breath, surprised. “I love you more than you could ever know, have for so long that I could not understand what it even felt like not to love you." 

"When they told me you had left Erebor, I could think of no where else you’d go… But you had to have gone back for your mother, I reasoned-”

“You silly, absolutely infuriating dwarrowdam,” Kili cut in, with a grin. “I came back for you. Did you not read my letter?” The letter. 

You swallowed. “No. I… I couldn’t bring myself to. I couldn’t see the words again, or fear the worst…" 

He kissed you once more, before drawing back enough to speak. "I never got a reply. And I waited and waited for one, but when I got my mother’s reply, and not yours, I feared something had happened… that you were hurt or had found yourself another dwarf that I’d have to fight for you with.” That was what he had thought? “I was already planning on coming home. I had written as much to you. I was going to surprise my mother, naturally, but I figured you might tell her-” Home. He called it home.

“I… I wanted you to have the life that you had always dreamed of, that you had been so excited for. I did not want to upset you by telling you that … that I hadn’t changed my mind. Or to upset myself by learning that you hadn’t either-”

“Bloody hell, Y/N,” he murmured, in fake exasperation. “And you traveled back alone? Are you absolutely insane?”

“I could think of nothing else but to get back.”

“What changed your mind? You would not come when you got the letter, but what changed your mind?”

“So many people…” There was a tug at your throat with the words and you glanced away from him, towards the near abandoned village. “So many people our age, younger, older, that had never stepped foot in Erebor… So many packed and left. So many left with the hopes of a chance at a life their families were robbed of.”

“And you wanted that?”

“I realized that I had been foolish. That I may not have wanted a life in Erebor, but I wanted a life with you. A life that I could have been robbed of, if you had died in your quest. A life that I was too scared to admit that I wanted. There is no place for a farmer’s daughter in the life of a prince, and-”

“But you are always more important than anyone else.”

You glanced to the muddy prince. “All I want is a life with you. And whatever comes with it.”

“Here,” Kili said softly. “Here is home, with you." 


End file.
